


Once More, With Feeling

by MistressSiM



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: 0/10 Would Not Recommend, Attempt at Humor, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-30
Updated: 2015-08-30
Packaged: 2018-04-17 19:54:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4679285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistressSiM/pseuds/MistressSiM
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Victoria jolts when Chloe grips her shoulders, tightly.</p><p>"I need Life Alert. The thing is, I've fallen in like with you—"</p><p>"Oh my God. Oh my <i>God</i>, shut the fuck up." Victoria interrupts, but she's laughing now, harder than Chloe's ever heard from her, so she just grins and continues.</p><p>"—and I'm not sure I want to get up."</p><p>Victoria's still laughing when Chloe leans in to kiss her. It's not how she was expecting this to happen at all, but that's okay. She'll take it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Once More, With Feeling

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place two years post-canon.
> 
> Combination of two prompts on my Tumblr:
> 
> "I hope you don't mind if ask for some chaseprice humour? Smut is an option if u want but I really want to see Chloe and Vic's interaction from your writing."
> 
> "Life is Strange, any pairing. Orgasming untouched and/or orgasming by an embarrassingly low amount of stimulation. Partner has to acknowledge/call out the other person for 'finishing' so quickly."

When Chloe stumbles into the Seattle apartment that she shares with Max, weighed down by groceries and other inane supplies, she isn't expecting to see Victoria fucking Chase lounging on their couch. She's all lazy grace and willowy dancer's limbs, blond and beautiful and completely out of place on their second-hand furniture.

"What the hell?" Chloe says.

Victoria smirks, crosses one slender leg over the other. She's in a killer red dress and ridiculously high heels. Chloe tries and fails not to stare at her legs.

"Maxine," Victoria calls. "There's trash in your doorway."

"What do you mean?" Max replies, voice filtering into the living room from the bathroom. She lets out a colorful string of curses a moment later. Victoria rolls her eyes when several loud thumps follow.

"Are you killing yourself in there, Maxine?"

"Max, never—"

"Maxine, yes. I know. I also know that if you don't hurry up, we'll be late."

It's like Chloe walked into the Twilight Zone.

Max comes wobbling down the hallway on heels a moment later. She's in a pretty, strapless black dress.

"What the hell?" Chloe repeats.

The disgruntled look on Max's face smooths into one of pleased affection.

"Chloe!" She nearly shouts. That'll never get old—being the reason someone's excited about something.

And when it comes down to it, she's dressed fancy but she's still so  _Max,_ even in the tight dress that's obviously not hers. Her hair is loosely curled, her face painted with makeup, but her teeth still peek between her lips and her shoulders and upper arms are covered in freckles, and her legs are a lighter color than the rest of her, and she's waddling like a newborn calf in her heels.  She's the only thing in the world that makes sense, sometimes.

"Hey, Bambi." Chloe greets her, laughing as Max lurches forward.  

Chloe drops her grocery bags and moves in to catch her, and they meet each other halfway, clutching each other's arms and laughing.

"Max," Chloe begins, with relish. "There's an overprivileged bitch on our couch."

"Play nice," Max chastises her, brows furrowing. One strategic warning look quiets Victoria, who glares up at Chloe. She gets a wink for her trouble.

"You look good," Chloe compliments, turning her attention back to Max. It's true. She does, but only partly because of the getup. This has to be the brightest Chloe has seen her in a long while without her camera being involved.

"Stop lying." Max says, grinning bashfully.

"You do!"

Victoria clears her throat. Chloe glances at her, vaguely irritated by the sharply assessing look on her face.

"We're going to be late. Let's go, Max. And I thought I told you to practice walking in those heels?"

"But I  _did._ " Max whines.

"Not nearly enough, obviously." Victoria scoffs.

"Where are you going with this chick, Max?" Chloe scowls. 

"Victoria's taking me to meet some fellow photographers. Some of these guys are really, really good, Chloe. It's going to be awesome. If I don't screw up." She adds, face falling.

"Hey, no, don't you start. You'll knock this out of the park, Super Max." Chloe encourages.

She pats Max on the back, and gives Victoria an assessing look of her own. Victoria shoots her a smile that's tight and so laughably fake that it has to be deliberate, and Chloe narrows her eyes.

Max pulls her into a hurried embrace. Victoria grasps her arm once they part, guiding her in a way that's somehow bossy and gentle, and as they work their way out if the apartment, Chloe thinks that maybe she isn't so bad.

* * *

The next time they cross paths, it's at a Starbucks. It's so fucking awful and cliche that Chloe wants to cry.

Strangely enough, she also wants to explain that she doesn't even like Starbucks, that she thought it'd be a nice surprise for Max, who bleeds shitty hipster coffee, and that she's trying to be a better friend. 

Victoria saves her the trouble by breaking in line, ordering for herself, and paying for both of their drinks. The cashier is so caught off guard that he doesn't comment on her rudeness.

"Come on," She commands, sounding breezy and bored with life. She pushes both of their cups into Chloe's hands and saunters towards an empty table near the windows. She's got on these ridiculous shades that would look stupid on anyone else, but somehow it works. She sneers at the patrons she cut in front of, silencing the volley of unappreciative comments they promptly launch their way.

Chloe follows, equal parts confused and intrigued, and takes a seat as she's bidden.

"Um. Not that it isn't good to see you," she begins, pushing Victoria's ice cold latte across the table. She's surprised at how much she actually means it. "We're not friends. So, what do you want?"

"I want to talk about Max. How's she been?" 

"Straight to the chase, then, Chase?"

Victoria rolls her eyes, and Chloe smirks. 

"She's good. Better. Why?" 

Max had mentioned off-handedly that she's been going to the same pretentious college as Victoria and that they worked together sometimes, but never that they were apparently close enough for Victoria to ask questions. It makes her feel just the smallest bit on edge, the knowledge that someone other than her is looking out for Max. Max is important, in every way that counts and then some, and it's silly, but Chloe feels like protecting her is role. Max has protected her more times than she can count. When they came to Seattle, she'd decided that it was time to give back.

"I was just—wondering." Victoria answers, voice dripping with forced nonchalance.

"You know you could just ask her this yourself." Chloe points out. Then she leers. "Or did you just want an excuse to talk to me? All you had to do was say so, babe."

"In your dreams, stoner trash." Victoria grumbles, taking a dainty sip of her coffee. "And it's Victoria—I'm not your babe. You call me by my name, or nothing at all."

"Okay, nothing at all..."

"You know what I meant, bitch." Victoria drawls.

Chloe smirks. "Yeah."

Victoria sighs. "We just—after last night, we had a disagreement." 

Her painted lips twist, like she's tasted something unpleasant.

Chloe hums in understanding.

She can't help but stare. Victoria's golden hair has grown, long enough for her fringe to fall over the rim of her glasses and brush her neck, but too short to reach the slope of her shoulders. She seems different, healthier somehow, and as she pushes her sunglasses up, uncaring of the way it offsets the messy-on-purpose sway of her hair, Chloe realizes that she seems to have found peace with herself. 

Chloe's not quite there yet, herself, but it's a nice thing to look forward to—a low glow and even lower inhibitions.

"Is there something on my face?" Victoria asks, frowning.

"I could be on your face, if you want." Chloe offers. 

Victoria narrows her eyes at her, icy blue and beautiful, and then she leaves. It's an improvement, in it's own way. The old Victoria would have upended her icy latte all over Chloe's head.

"Call me!" Chloe shouts at her retreating back, grinning.

* * *

"Max, someone's at the door." Chloe announces, unnecessarily. 

"Can't you get it?" Max groans, from where she's sprawled out on the carpeted floor of the living room, exhausted from a full day of classes and work. 

"Do you want burnt stir fry?" Chloe asks, shaking the sizzling wok in her hands for emphasis. "Because I heard that fucking sucks."

"I regret everything." Max moans.

"I bet." Chloe says, chuckling. 

Max peels herself from the floor and drags her feet for the door. A moment later, she says, "Oh, hey, mom... and Victoria?"

"You never told me you made such sweet friends at your photography school, honey!" Vanessa trumpets. She's an excitable person, always has been. She's the kind of woman who gets excited over pleasant weather.

"You're the sweet one, Mrs. Caulfield," Victoria simpers. "You just glow."

" _Jesus God,"_ Chloe whispers, rolling her eyes.

"Little old me? Oh, stop it, sweetheart." Vanessa waves a hand dismissively as she leans in to kiss Max's forehead. She cups her face, smiles, and nods, as if she's assuring herself of something.

"What's up, Vanessa?" Chloe calls, noting Max's rising discomfort. Max gives her a grateful little smile, and pulls Victoria over to the couch. There's an obvious hesitance between them, some things lingering unsaid after their argument, but they're all business as Victoria reaches into her bag and pulls out a portfolio. They promptly set about discussing the photos inside, throwing around jargon that completely flies over Chloe's head.

"Hey, baby! Mm, that smells good! So great to see you. Are you doing okay? You done some totally rad tattoos lately?" Vanessa steps into the kitchen as she talks, and plants a kiss on Chloe's cheek.

Chloe just laughs, because Vanessa is such a  _mom,_ cool but not quite cool enough, ever ready with a bad joke and a smile on her face. Max favors her dad, but she has her mother's pretty blue eyes, and it's like she's looking up at a mirror of them.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm good. I've done some awesome tattoos. Still won't take me up on that offer of a tramp stamp?" She jokes.

"I don't know, do you think Ryan would like it?"

They laugh, and chatter away. It's still strange, because they'd gone years without speaking at all, and it's always like it hasn't been a day. Vanessa easily slides into the role of sous chef, helpful and bright. They cook as Max and Victoria talk in whispers, hunched over their portfolios. It would be domestic if Chloe didn't feel so out of place.

"So," Vanessa begins lowly, as she passes Chloe some seasoning. She bobs her head in Victoria's general direction. "What's the rundown on this girl?"

She pops a diced block of celery into her mouth, eyebrows raised.

"She sucks," Chloe answers, immediately. "But she's Max's friend, so I guess she's okay. Sometimes. Every other day, when I'm not there to witness it."

Vanessa throws her head back on a hearty laugh, and Chloe grins. From the living room, Victoria shoots a quizzical look their way, bristling when Chloe blows her a kiss.

"Oh, honey. Not your favorite kind of person?"

"Vanessa. Her clothes cost more than our rent, she bosses Max around—" Vanessa shoots her a  _look_ at this, "and I'm pretty sure she consumes the souls of happy, healthy children for sustenance."

Vanessa hums, "In other words, you think she's interesting, and you don't know how to feel about it?"

"Just a little bi—shit, how do you do that?"

"I have Max for a daughter, sweetie." She explains, patting Chloe's arm.

* * *

  _(From: Max)_

_Chloe, Victoria was supposed to come over today. Can you let her in? I'm gonna be late getting off work. (4:25 PM)_

_(From: Max)_

_Chloe, I know you don't like her. You can just let her in and go to the bedroom or something (4:30 PM)_

_(From: Max)_

_Chloe, I know you're reading these texts. We have a project to work on. Play nice!! \\(￣ < ￣)> \\(￣< ￣)>\\(￣< ￣)>\\(￣< ￣)>(4:31 PM)_

There's a loud, insistent knock on the door the moment Chloe chuckles humorlessly and puts her phone on standby.

"If you're selling girl scout cookies, I'm not buying unless you show me some tits!" She calls.

From the other side of the door, Victoria says, "I can always come back when you're too high to bother me."

Chloe unlocks the door, and laughs outright at the disgusted look on Victoria's face.

"Do you remember when you asked Rachel to join the Vortex Club and she laughed in your face? You were making that exact same face." 

"Ugh. Whatever." She pushes past Chloe, smelling of expensive shampoo and inherited wealth.

"Where's Max? She told me to meet her here."

"Her asshole boss is probably keeping her after hours again. She told me to let you in." 

Victoria nods, crossing her arms over her chest. She walks aimlessly about their space, eyeing the photos Max has pinned up on the walls over time. By the window that overlooks their block, there's a Polaroid of Chloe, tattoo gun in hand, laughing silently to herself at the man who sobbed and shrieked as she inked a bionic pinup woman onto his ribs. There's another of her flirting outrageously with a bar boy (and how had Max managed to take that, anyways? Every time she looks at the walls there's something new). 

There's a photo of Victoria that gives her pause. She's leaning against a brick building and laughing, her blond hair made a mess by an easterly breeze. It's much shorter than it is now. Chloe's wonders when Max took it, if she and Victoria were even on friendly terms. It's obviously not new, but Max has posted old photos on the walls before. 

"Wow," Chloe says, to hide her surprise. "She managed to make you look like you're actually human."

"And you don't look like some doped up parody of the blue blur in your photos." Victoria replies, not missing a beat. 

"Wait. The blue blur?" Chloe repeats, delighted. "You like Sonic the Hedgehog?"

"No! I just—I—" 

"You totally do! Oh my God, Sonic is such shit, now! The last good Sonic thing to ever happen was Sonic Adventure Two!" 

There's a high flush on Victoria's cheeks, but she's smiling, small and unexpected. 

"The pic caught me off guard." Victoria explains, weakly, and Chloe has to clutch her sides and catch herself.

"Oh my God. Did you—did you, like, sing City Escape in your head while you were in Arcadia Bay? Fantasize about Sonic speeding you out of town?"

"Shut up, bitch," Victoria says, but then she's laughing, too.

Max finds them like this a half hour later, laughing and pointing at different photos. The smile she gives them is painfully indulgent.

* * *

What happens over the next few weeks is this: They start fixing the bridges they burned back during those early days at Blackwell, when they'd sneer at each other over Rachel's shoulder. They argue just as much as they talk, but there's something precious about it. Victoria, she's fire and snark and secret affectionat rolled up into a blond, pixie-sized package. Over time, she shows up unannounced, without Max as an excuse, and they discuss everything—Blackwell, Arcadia Bay, what it was like for the both of them that fateful week. Victoria tells Chloe how she hurt Kate, about how close she was to Nathan. It's nice, the moments where they strip away the playfighting and talk like adults, even when they talk about things that set an ache in her chest something fierce.

Victoria, like Max, takes photo after photo of Chloe, shutting her down with a primly arched brow each time she protests. Max jokes that their professors will think that they've cheated, because their work features much of the same person. Victoria doesn't laugh at that, simply smiles, small and weak, and cups the back of her neck in a rare show of vulnerability. 

(She marches into the parlor the very next day and demands to take photos of Chloe at work. She effectively intimidates the clients who don't want to be photographed, which actually isn't cool, but Chloe's too dumbfounded by the almost childlike glint of purpose in her eyes to do anything but go along with it. When she's done, squeezes Chloe's shoulder in thanks and breezes out without a word, waving daintily over her shoulder.

"Who in blazes was that?" Chloe's boss asks, his southern accent made thick with slight irritation.

"Um, that won't happen again. And honestly, I don't know anymore, Hugh." Chloe answers, shaking her head.)

The thing is, Chloe's pretty sure she likes Victoria. She more than likes her. She likes her as much as someone on a diet longs for sweets they shouldn't have. She likes the spontaneity of not knowing when she's on camera (and the delighted little laugh Victoria gives when she randomly strikes a pose, just to give her pause). She's catalogued that curve of her lip that precedes a cutting word, the sweep of her silky hair, the sway of her hips in every form-fitting skirt she squeezes herself into.

Chloe's brought a few people home with her these past months, gone home with even more, and those people sparked a visceral, limited-time attraction in her. Victoria makes her feel like she's growing through an extended version of that same attraction, and part of the thrill is waiting for it to end and not wanting it to at the same time.

("How are you doin'?" Joyce asks, over the phone, voice so warm and proud that Chloe can practically feelit. The answer is almost always some form of "Better than I was in Arcadia Bay", and that's all her mom as ever wanted for her, in the long run.

"Um. There's this girl..."

"Oh, my," Joyce interrupts. "I bet you've scared her away already."

"Aw, mom. I'm serious. She's kind of a bitch, though."

Joyce sighs. "People who don't agree with you about everything aren't bitches, Chloe."

"Do you remember Victoria Chase? That girl I'd complain about all the time when I went to Blackwell?" Chloe asks, smirking.

"Oh, my," Joyce sighs again.)

It's just  _nice,_ is what it is. Not good, exactly, but there's potential lurking behind the jokes and the discussion and every picture, and with a start Chloe remembers that she hasn't felt quite like this since Rachel Amber walked into her life. It's scary, but not scary enough to cause her to push Victoria away. Her dad always said that she had a nasty habit of diving in headlong.

* * *

Chloe's closing up shop with the crew when her phone starts buzzing in her pocket.

She's fully prepared to ignore it and call back when she's done cleaning up her workspace, but then Victoria's self-recorded ringtone filters loudly through the easy silence she's got going on with her coworkers. Chloe quickly reaches into her pocket. On rainy days like this, there's an unspoken rule that you stop and appreciate it. Hugh's weird and southern,  _southeastern_ southern, which is his weak excuse for cherishing each of Seattle's clockwork rains like something sacred. Chloe doesn't fault him for it. They all have their quirks.

 _Answer your phone, Bob Marley. No, wait. Before you do, admit to yourself that this call is the best thing that's happened to you all day._  A pause. _Now pick up. If you don't, I promise you I'll—_

"Heeeey, Victoria." Chloe nearly shouts. She flips Jerry the middle finger as he snickers down at the floor, meaty arms crossed over his chest. Cosima makes kissy faces at her, clutching her hands to her heart. Chloe flips her off, too. 

"Chloe?" Her voice sounds tinny and muted over the phone.

"What's up, babe?" Chloe replies, wincing a moment later at the giggles that Cosima can't contain. She covers her other ear.

"Can you come get me? I'm at my parents' studio. You know where that is, right?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I know. You okay? You don't sound too good. Do I need to beat anybody up or some shit?"

"You can't beat up the entire art world, can you?" Her laugh is weak and rough.

"I'll be there. Just wait for me. Jesus, are you in the rain? Never mind, just. Wait." Chloe ends the call.

"We got you. Shoo." Hugh says. He pushes Chloe's jacket into her arms. She thanks him, promises to work on an off day, and leaves.

It's not a long drive from Hugh's parlor to the Chase Place, but traffic is shit and it's raining besides. A mix of road rage and worry has her cursing a neon blue streak. When she drives up to the studio, she doesn't see Victoria. She's about to call when there's a slam on the passenger window. 

Chloe unhooks her seatbelt and leans over to push the door open for her. Victoria plops down, uncerimonious and obviously tired. She sits close, though she hugs herself, knuckles white where they grip her arms.

"You look like a drowned cat," Chloe jokes, weakly. She shrugs out of her jacket and drapes it over Victoria's trembling shoulders, staunchly ignoring her quiet protests.

"You wanna talk about it?" Chloe asks, cranking up the heat.

Victoria shakes her head, sniffles, and looks down at her lap. They sit in relative silence for what feels like hours but must only be a few minutes.  Victoria suddenly sits up straight, and splays her hands wide.

"You— _you're_ it!"

"I'm what?" Chloe's eyebrows climb up to her forehead.

"You're the reason why they're gonna riding my ass, Chloe. You and your—stupid blue hair!" Victoria spits, smacking at Chloe's thigh.

"Hey, what the fuck? What have I done?" Chloe catches Victoria's wrists. They seem thin and delicate in her calloused hands, and Chloe suddenly feels overlage and clumsy in the space of her truck. She traces the tapering line of one blue vein with the pad of her thumb. Victoria hitches a sobbing, hysterical breath, but she doesn't move. Chloe intertwines their fingers, and squeezes tight.

"Chill the hell out. Tell me what's up."

"My parents have been wanting me to do a gallery. Today I was supposed to show my mom the photos I'm using, just a quick review on her computer, but I was in a hurry, and I picked up the wrong flash drive. We're looking, okay, and there's nothing but these photos of you! You, nothing but you! My mom's like, 'Victoria, are these yours?' I say yes, and she's all, 'This isn't becoming of you. Just look at this girl.' And I just got _so mad_ , and I went off on her and then in walks my dad."

And then she's pushing away and smacking at Chloe again.

"You have a flash drive full of pictures of me?" Chloe mumbles, stupidly, not even bothering to shield herself. Victoria doesn't hit hard.

"Because I like you! Okay? I like you, a lot, and all of a sudden it's like you're everywhere, and now my parents are wondering what's up and I haven't—say something! Don't look at me like that!"

"I think I need Life Alert."

"You what?" Victoria shrills, jerkily wiping the wet hair from her face. "I tell you all that, and that's all you can say?" 

Her voice is thick from crying, her eyes are wide and reddened, her makeup's running, her expensive clothing is probably ruined, and she's never looked more beautiful.

Victoria jolts when Chloe grips her shoulders, tightly.

"I need Life Alert. The thing is, I've fallen in like with you—"

"Oh my God. Oh my  _God,_ shut the fuck up." Victoria interrupts, but she's laughing now, harder than Chloe's ever heard from her, so she just grins and continues.

"—and I'm not sure I want to get up."

Victoria's still laughing when Chloe leans in to kiss her. It's not how she was expecting this to happen at all, but that's okay. She'll take it.

* * *

 Chloe takes Victoria back to the apartment. She steers Victoria towards the shower, and leaves some of her own clothes and a towel on the toilet seat. Its entirely self-indulgent of her, but she figures she's entitled to it, now.

Thirty minutes later, Victoria patters into the bedroom on bare feet. She's wearing nothing but Chloe's tattered old band shirt. It's big on her, resting on her upper thighs, swishing about them like a dress with every step she takes. She looks good like this, vulnerable without the make up and fancy clothes. Still, Victoria wears her confidence like a second skin, and she still looks just as fierce as she would if she were wearing a tight skirt and heels. She closes the door behind her and then, almost as if afterthought, she reaches behind out and locks it.

She smirks when Chloe swallows, leaning against the wall. She's extremely glad that Max is still at work.

"Um, maybe we should wait. You were all upset earlier, and we haven't gone on any—shit," She splutters, as Victoria climbs onto the bed. She slides onto Chloe's lap in one smooth movement. She smells familiar, and when it hits Chloe that Victoria used her body wash, she has to stifle a groan.

"Don't talk." Victoria commands, clutching Chloe's shoulders pressing close. She pulls Chloe into a searing kiss, shattering her self control. Victoria sighs as Chloe cradles her hips. She bites her bottom lip against a breathy moan as Chloe slides a hand underneath up her thigh and sucks at the hardened peak of her nipple through the fabric of her shirt.

"Haha! I knew it! I knew you'd be one of those chicks who waxes." Chloe crows, leaning away to meet Victoria's flinty eyes.

"Fuck you, I told you not to talk." Victoria replies, pressing her face into Chloe's neck as she slides a finger up the length of her, catching teasingly against her clit before dipping lower to the wet heat of her entrance. She swirls her finger against the slick skin. Victoria presses wet kisses along Chloe's neck, nipping quick and curious, lingering each time she finds a spot that has Chloe stuttering in her rhythm. 

"But I am fucking you!" Chloe says, laughing breathlessly when a quick swipe against her clit steals Victoria's breath and the insult that was likely riding on it. She's only got her thumb pressed against the hard bud of Victoria's arousal, moving slow, just something to get her hot.

"I want to taste you," Chloe whispers, sliding a finger inside, and then another as Victoria rolls her hip into her hand. "Is that okay?"

Victoria's hips buck, and she's fluttering tellingly around Chloe's questing fingers. She lets out a quick, shallow breath, her grip tightening against Chloe's shoulders.

"Did you just—" Experimentally, she presses her thumb against Victoria's clit, barking a pleased laugh as that sets off another round of trembles. 

"Oh, my God." Victoria gasps. 

"You totally did! Jesus, you were keyed up!"

She laughs again, tucking a thick lock of Victoria's hair behind her ear. "That's so cute."

Victoria shoves at Chloe's chest, blushing furiously.

"It's been a long day." She mutters.

"We can make it an even longer night, if you can contain yourself." Chloe teases, leaning in to give her an apologetic kiss.

"I hate you." Victoria hisses against her lips.

"No, you don't." Chloe sighs, pulling on the hem of her shirt. Victoria raises her arms to help her pull it off, and then arches a brow once she's completely bare, a silent challenge.

Chloe presses Victoria down onto the bed, maneuvers her until her legs are spread akimbo, and leans in for another kiss.

Yeah, she thinks. She's game.

**Author's Note:**

> Chloe's confession (the summary) was inspired by [OTP Prompts](http://otpprompts.tumblr.com/post/127160298090/imagine-person-a-of-your-otp-confessing-their-love).
> 
> I get the feeling that Max's parents would want her to return to Seattle after everything that goes down in Arcadia Bay. I also get the feeling that Chloe would follow. (Plus, tattoo artist!Chloe is an awesome Chloe who has slightly chilled out.)
> 
> I think Max and Victoria would be good friends, given the time to separate themselves from all that goes down in Arcadia Bay. Victoria was born in Seattle, her parents own a studio, it's all very convenient... and Idk if Seattle actually has a big-time photography-oriented college, but for the story's sake, let's say it does!
> 
> My love for Max kinda spilled over in some parts. I'm so ~~(not)~~ sorry. 
> 
> I agonized over Victoria's dialogue while writing this. If anybody has any tips on how to do better in the future, please let me know ;_; I like her a lot, but for some reason, it was exceedingly hard to write her. I kept starting over, and scrapping large parts and it was just an all around a bad experience. Anons, I'm sorry I took so long! I'm headed for the trash heap right now.
> 
> Finally (and I'm sure some of you know the drill by now so I apologize for repeating myself), I read over this, but it was posted from a smartphone that malfunctions daily—please tell me about any mistakes I left behind. 
> 
> I've got prompting on hold for now (this was my last fill, yay!), but if you want to discuss LiS—or anything else—with me, you can find me on [mah Tumblah](http://sim-writes.tumblr.com)!


End file.
